


Burnt Offerings

by Jld71



Category: Supernatural
Genre: An angel and a nephilim attempt to cook, Bad Cooking, Cooking, Gen, attempts at cooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71
Summary: Castiel and Jack decide to cook Sam and Dean a meal. At least, Castiel and Jack tried to cook for the brothers.





	Burnt Offerings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JJ1564](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/gifts).



> Do Not Re-Post Without My Written Permission - Only To Be Posted On My AO3 Or LiveJournal Accounts.
> 
> Written for the Spn_BigPretzel Spring Fic Exchange 2019  
> Written for jj1564  
> The prompt I chose was: Castiel and Jack decide to cook Sam and Dean a meal. How successful their cooking attempt is and how well the meal goes is up to the author!  
> Beta: yonkyu  
> Artist: dizzojay

Burnt Offerings

 

“Castiel,” Jack called out quietly in the confines of his room at the bunker. Jack smiled as he felt the familiar swoosh of air movement and heard the flapping of wings as Cas answered his call. “Castiel, I’d like to do something nice for Sam and Dean,” Jack said as Cas pushed open the door and entered his bedroom. “I want to show them my appreciation for taking me in, treating me like family.”

“What do you have in mind?” Cas asked as he looked at the young nephilim sitting on his bed.  

Jack met Cas’ blue eyes and smiled. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“I have heard that,” Cas confirmed with a simple shake of his head. 

“I wasn’t sure what that meant at first,” Jack idly responded. “But Sam explained it to me. It wasn’t what I thought.”

“It never is,” Cas replied. Even after all the time he had spent on Earth, surrounded by humans, he still had a hard time understanding simple phrases of speech. It was confusing at the best of times. Most of the time the strange terminology went right over his head and he found himself saying he didn’t understand what someone was referring to.

“I thought it meant to cut the body starting at the stomach area until you reached the heart,” Jack said with a shake of his head as he stood up from the bed and took a step toward Cas. “It actually means to cook a meal; to win someone over with food, usually a man,” he said as a smile spread over his lips at remembering what the phrase actually meant. 

“It is confusing,” Cas confirmed. “What do you have in mind to show your appreciation for everything Sam and Dean have done for you?” Cas asked as he cocked his head to the side. 

“I would like to cook them a meal, with your help, of course. We should cook them breakfast,” Jack suggested with a bright smile lighting up his face. The idea appealed to him, having Sam and Dean wake up to find a nice meal made in their honor.

“Neither one of us has ever cooked before,” Cas replied, not hiding the uncertainty in his voice. 

“How hard could it be?” Jack asked as he made his way to his bedroom door. “Most of the food items have directions on them and what we don’t know, we can figure out by googling it,” he said with confidence. “Sam taught me that. Whenever I don’t know something, he told me to use the internet to look it up,” he said as he left his room and made his way into the kitchen, followed closely by Castiel.

Cas shrugged his shoulders, indeed, how hard could it be to cook a meal? Sam and Dean had been able to do this small act and they were human, he thought to himself. “Then it is settled, we will cook them breakfast. We should make sure we have ample food to fill their appetites,” Cas suggested as he stood in the middle of the kitchen. He felt excitement course through his body as he tried to decide what he wanted to cook. “They will be surprised and I think extremely happy. They won’t have to cook for themselves.”

“What should we start with?” Jack asked as he pulled open the refrigerator door. He began to rummage through the contents; pulling out eggs, milk, butter and anything else he could put his hands on that he felt they would need. He placed the items on the table and then went to search for cookware and mixing bowls. 

Cas pulled open the freezer and began to search for what he thought Sam and Dean would like to eat. He pulled out a frozen chicken, holding it in his hands, he turned to Jack. “Should we stick to just breakfast items? It might be nice to make them more than just a breakfast. This way, they will have food prepared for the entire day,” Cas offered.

Jack looked up from the box he was reading. “Let’s make everything,” he replied. He held up the box to show Cas. “I found this. It’s a pie in a box,” he said and then turned his attention back to reading the last of the directions before he started preparing the pan he would need to bake the pie on.

With a shake of his head, Cas returned his attention back to the freezer, pulling out a few bags of frozen vegetables. He knew Sam liked vegetables and wanted to make his friend smile at the thought that something had been made specifically for him. He set the items aside and looked through the kitchen until he found a pan large enough to accomodate the chicken. He read the directions, placed the frozen items, wrappers and all, in the baking dish and tossed everything in the oven on the highest setting. He walked over to Jack and stood beside him. “Would you like my help?”

“That would be great,” Jack responded as he poured the lumpy mixture into the pie tin. “Does this look right?” he inquired as he looked from the picture on the box to Cas.

Cas frowned at the nephilim as his blue eyes swept over the pie tin and then the picture. “It does not resemble the picture,” he started to say and saw the look of hurt that crossed Jack’s face. “But, that is most likely because the pie has yet to bake,” he offered and pointed to the picture of the golden brown pie on the packaging. 

“That has to be it,” Jack reasoned as he added the pie to the other items baking in the oven.

“Do you think they would like eggs to go along with this?” Cas questioned. He had been with the brothers when they had eaten breakfast in the past and seemed to remember them ordering eggs. He had just never paid much attention to what they ordered since he didn’t need to eat.

“Yes, and toast,” Jack responded as he slipped two slices of bread into the toaster and set that to the darkest setting.

With a nod of acknowledgement, Cas began to toss the eggs along with the shells into a frying pan. A few moments later, he brought the spatula down on the eggs, flattening them out into a congealed mess and then flipped them over. 

 

Jack looked over at the oven, realizing he had forgotten to time how long the pie took to bake. He donned a pair of oven mitts and pulled the oven door open and coughed as he was hit in the face with a cloud of black smoke. “Is it supposed to do that?” he asked in confusion. 

“Possibly?” Cas responded as he watched Jack retrieve the pie from the oven.

Dean sniffed the air. His nose crinkled in disgust as a foul smell began to seep into his room. He turned of the TV, tossed the remote onto his bed and stood up. He crossed over to the door and pulled it open. “What the . . .” He choked as he tried to breathe, wondering what narly spell Sam was cooking up now. He hated the idea of Sam dabbling in spellwork, especially if it was going to smell that rancid. “Sammy!” he yelled in exasperation and began to run toward the kitchen.

Sam tossed aside the book he had been reading and gagged on the smell that had crept into his room. He had no idea what the smell was or where it was coming from, but he had to find the source and get it out of the bunker. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, stood up and went to open his bedroom door. The acrid smell was stronger in the hallway, causing him to run toward the kitchen. Something had to be on fire he thought to himself. 

The smell of something burning had Dean and Sam running from their respective rooms. They met in the hallway leading to the kitchen. Wide-eyed, they looked at each other. 

“That’s not you?” Dean uttered in shock as he waved a hand toward the kitchen.

Sam shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes as he did and he raised a hand to swat at the stray strands. “No, why would you think it was me burning the place down?”

“Because of the last spell you tried your hand at . . .” Dean shudder as he remembered the sickly sweet smell that had permeated the library. “Dude, it was kinda rank smelling.”

“Dean . . .” Sam started to say in protest when the sound of clattering dishes drew them both back to the reason why they had raced out of their rooms. “It was one time,” he began to mutter under his breath at Dean.

“Come on,” Dean gritted out as he turned and stalked into the kitchen and stopped as he took in the sight before him. He sputtered angrily when Sam’s solid form collided with his back. 

“What the . . .” Sam managed to rasp out as his eyes ticked from Dean to Cas to Jack and the plume of black smoke billowing up from the closed oven door.     
  


“What the Hell . . .” Dean sputtered out and then stopped as he felt Sam place a hand on his shoulder.

“We made you breakfast and food to show you our appreciation,” Cas happily told the brothers.

Jack turned to Dean, with a smile on his face. In his oven mitt clad hands he held what looked to be a blackened hubcap. He held it out as an offering to Dean. “I made you a pie,” Jack gleefully stated.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he looked at what was in Jack’s hands. He shook his head. “I don’t know what that is,” he said, pointing to what looked like cooling lava. “But, that ain’t pie.”

A hurt look crossed Jack’s face and Sam elbowed Dean for his calloused remark. “Uh, what Dean meant to say was thank you. That was really nice of you both, but you didn’t need to do that for us.” What he really meant by that was he really wished they hadn’t gotten it in their heads to attempt to cook for them. He flinched when two pieces of burnt bread popped up from the toaster. Well, he hoped it was bread, not that it was edible.

Dean shuddered as he looked at the burnt pans and what he thought was once meant to be food. “Yeah,” he said as he pointed at the biohazard that was once their kitchen. “I’m not eating that.” He watched as Cas pulled something from the stove. It was smoking and smelled of burnt plastic. “What is that supposed to be?” he questioned.

“Chicken and vegetables. I added the vegetables for Sam.”

“Why does it smell like plastic?” He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and raised his other hand. “Let me guess, you didn’t remove the plastic, did you?”

Wide-eyed, Cas looked at Dean. “Do they not cook in the bags they come in?”

“No, Cas,” Sam answered softly. “They’re sold in plastic packaging, but you have to remove the plastic before you can cook it.”

Dean pointed a finger in the air, waving it from Cas to Jack, “You two made this mess, you can clean it up,” Dean stated as he turned and brushed past Sam on his way out of the kitchen. “I’m going to the diner for something I can actually eat. You coming Sam?” he called out as he started for the garage.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “I’m right behind you.” He turned and followed Dean out of the kitchen and toward the garage. “Think they’ll have that cleaned up by the time we get back?” he inquired.

Dean smirked at him. “No, they’re probably make more of a mess, but at least we don’t have to clean it up and while they’re doing that, we’re out of the bunker. No horrible smells to put up with and a nice edible breakfast in front of us,” he said as he started the Impala, pulled out of the garage and drove them toward the diner they frequented.

“Yeah, but do you think we were right in leaving them alone? I mean, look at the mess they’ve already created,” Sam replied, feeling a little uneasy with leaving Cas and Jack to clean up they mess they had already made. Especially if Dean was right, those two could make an even bigger mess.

“You want me to stop, let you out so you can go back in there and deal with them & Chernobyl?” Dean quipped.

“No, good point. Drive,” Sam said with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, thought you’d see it my way,” Dean countered back and applied more pressure to the gas pedal, propelling them away from the disaster that had been created in their kitchen.


End file.
